L4D2: Spitters, Tanks, and Lady Gaga
by Probably-a-stalker
Summary: A collection of short L4D2 stories that I've written. Some are NickEllis, some aren't.
1. Free

Run. Shoot. Run. Shoot. Run. Fall.

_Goddamn pavement, always gettin' the best of me._

"C'mon Ellis, you gotta get up! Them zombies ain't waitin' for you to recover." Coach yelled as he helped wrench me off the ground. Scrambling to my feet, I pick up my shotgun and rejoin the others. Zombies, swarming everywhere. The helicopter landing pad is at least a hundred yards away. Rochelle's not doing well. She's gone down twice, and we have no remaining health kits. Coach is doing no better, stumbling along the bridge, chest heaving, praying to god the pilot doesn't leave us. And Nick… oh, Nick. Swearing up and down, covered in sweat, and mumbling something about those 'goddamn zombie scumbags' while attempting to stay coherent. Covered in blood, ours and theirs, we make our way across the bridge.

We can hear the helicopter pilot screaming, compelling us to get onto the copter so he can bomb the bridge and get us the hell out of there. Almost there, almost safe. A tank decides to make himself known just as we reach the end of the bridge. Throwing cars, chunks of pavement, whatever he can get his massive hands onto. You can only dodge so much when you've already reached your limit.

Coach, down.

Rochelle, down and barely breathing.

Nick and I rush to them, fighting to keep everyone alive for just a bit longer. When everyone's walking again, we jump down onto the pad. Nick looks at me and I give him a reassuring smile, letting him know everything's going to be okay. He nods, both of us knowing that I'm full of shit. We make it into the helicopter, shouting out. To god, to each other, to the pilot, it doesn't matter who.

We're _free._


	2. Bad Romance

"I want your love, and I want your revenge. I want your love, I don't wanna be friends!" Ellis sang as he danced about the saferoom.

"Ellis… Are you singing _Lady Gaga?"_ Nick asked, half in shock, half in amusement.

Ellis chuckled, walking over to Nick.

"You like it?" Ellis asked with a coy smile, wrapping his arms around Nick.

Nick laughed.

"Hell _no._ What happened to that Midnight Riders crap you and Coach are always singing?"

"Well, I've decided that it's nice to listen to a wide variety of music." Ellis said as he walked away from Nick, attempting to sound fancy with all those 'big words'.

"Wow, Overalls. You actually managed to sound semi-intelligent there. Gonna start jumping through hoops next?"

"You're an asshole."

Nick walked over to Ellis and kissed him on the forehead.

"I know."


	3. Beautiful Lady

God, she was beautiful. Well, 'was' is the key word there. Now, she's likely the most grotesque thing on the surface of the planet. Beautiful hair, beautiful, eyes, beautiful figure. Well, okay, the last one not so much. Fine, none of those are true. But there's _something _about her that makes me fall even deeper in love every time I see her.

The first time we met was pure bliss. She was standing there, staring at me, while I spied out someone to snag. I noticed her after she spit a searing mass of acid at a group of survivors. Hair flowing in the wind, eyes bright, bits of gore splattered across her body, I knew it was love at first sight. She glanced at me before stumbling away into a back alley, away from the group of survivors currently seeking her out. After unsuccessfully trying to mangle a few people with my tongue (I never was a good kisser. I hoped my newfound love wouldn't mind), I chased her down.

In the back alley, where I had seen her saunter off to, I found her drooling by a dumpster. Oh, the color of that dumpster almost matched her acid-spit. It was so wonderful. I almost got down on one knee and proposed to her right then. But alas, she had started to walk away, not even realizing I had been watching her. I stopped her, and gazed into her marvelous eyes. She screeched and tried to claw my face off. I enjoyed the physical contact.

The next thing I knew, the group of survivors who had been blessed with her presence earlier had come back to find her. They aimed their guns at my lover, and fired, breaking her body as they broke my heart.

Never again will I love another the way I loved her.


	4. Grabbin' Pills

Grabbin' Pills

"Like, omg, we should ttly be BFFs. Mmkay, Ro? Mmmmmhhhkay? Mmmkay? Alright? Mmkay?"

Rochelle was immediately horrified.

_Note to self: never let Coach take painkillers ever again._


	5. Hallucinations

Hallucinations

Ellis was feverish. Rochelle was sure he'd caught the flu or something along those lines while salvaging gasoline for the Lagniappe. Coach _swore _it was malaria. He'd been delirious for days.

It was Nick's turn to look after him, dab his forehead with a wet washcloth, and keep him company. Every once in a while, Ellis would start rambling unintelligibly, and usually Nick just ignored it, knowing it was part of the sickness. After a few minutes of this, he quieted down to the point where Nick was sure he was asleep.

Hey, Ellis wouldn't notice a quick kiss to the forehead while being nearly incoherent, now would he? Nick took his chance.

Days later, when he recovered, Ellis could be heard bragging to Coach and Rochelle about the kiss Nick had given him. Coach explained how Ellis was probably hallucinating at the time, and needed to stop bugging everyone about it.

In another corner of the saferoom, Nick sighed in relief. Thank god no one had noticed him shifting nervously in his chair as Ellis tried to convince them that Nick _had _kissed him, and that his lack of input on the subject only further proved his point. Once Coach had shut him up, Rochelle and Ellis decided to go see what supplies they could find in the immediate vicinity of the saferoom.

Coach turned to Nick with a smirk.

"What?" Nick asked, wondering what the hell Coach was so damn smug about.

"Heh. You're welcome. I covered your ass, son. I didn't know you had a thing for Ellis. You ain't very convincing, though. So I doubt he's gonna believe that 'I don't like you' crap for much longer." Coach said, barely able to contain his laughter.

Nick was flabbergasted.


	6. Limp

For the millionth time, Coach did not want the damn pills.

"Don't underestimate me, boy. Just 'cause I'm old don't mean I can't handle myself. When I need 'em, I'll take 'em." Coach griped at Ellis, who had been pestering him since the last horde to take the pills he had found.

"C'mon, Coach. You really look like you could use 'em, what with yer limpin' and all." Ellis responded, his concern for the man unwilling to subside until he was able to help.

Coach froze. He hadn't thought it'd been _that _obvious. He'd actually figured he'd been able to hide it quite well.

"Uh, well, I… um, no, I'm gon' be fine. This ain't nothing to worry about." Coach stammered, looking around, trying to find something, _anything_ to distract Ellis.

Now was _not_ the time for him to be making assumptions about why Coach had a limp. Why Coach looked so nervous.

Why Coach was getting the _meanest_ of glares from Nick right now.

Glancing from Coach, to Nick, to Coach again, Ellis's jaw dropped.

"W-well golly, I didn't- I had no idea- I'm sorry I… woah." Ellis stuttered as he stared at the two in shock.

There was nothing but silence, no one could think of anything to say. Nick looked like he was fuming, and Ellis was still gawking at him like he was Jimmy Gibbs Jr., alive and in person. Screw the damn zombies, Coach thought he would die of _embarrassment_.

Finally, Ellis spoke up.

"Well, I guess I'll have to be more careful, then. Sorry, Coach. I had no idea I was hittin' you with my baseball bat while all those zombies were around. Damn." He said apologetically.

Nick snorted loudly.

Coach almost fainted.

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**A/N- Please review! I'd like to know how I'm doing. :) Let me know if you have any ideas for a story or on how I can improve. :)**


	7. Argument

It's very rare to find danger in a _safe_room. The point of said room being a break from all the terror and confusion of the outside world.

Which is exactly why Rochelle found it very odd to be hearing muffled screams and shouts coming from the direction of the room shared by Nick and Ellis. Naturally, she suspected them of having another argument, as they tended to have them quite often.

Rising from her spot near Coach-who was currently snacking on a bag of Cheetos and therefore dead to the world around him-, Rochelle made her way to their room.

Upon getting closer to the door, the muffled 'screams and shouts' were quickly turning to moans and gasps. Rochelle hesitantly opened the door, and entered the room.

And she immediately wished she hadn't.

There on the bed, in a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, she found Nick and Ellis. The conman had the hick pinned underneath him, attempting to remove the _rest_ of his clothing while shoving his tongue down the boy's throat.

Definitely _not _an argument.

Rochelle stumbled out of the room awkwardly, shutting the door behind her. Still horrified, she returned to where Coach was seated and stood across from him, attempting to force her hands to stop shaking.

"C-coach. I think I just… walked in on Nick and Ellis… having _sex._" Rochelle stammered out, still stunned by what she'd witnessed.

Coach put down his finished bag Cheetos and turned to stare at her for a few good seconds.

"Girl, that's happened to me _twice."_


	8. Cheesy

**A/N- I was experiencing a bit of writer's block, so I asked my friend Megan Hale to give me a fandom, two characters, and a word. She came up with 'L4D2, Nick and Coach, cheesy.' So this is the outcome of that. :D**

**This story is set after the Infection. **

* * *

"Jesus Christ, Coach. Don't you think you've had enough?"

Coach stopped to glare at Nick over his mountain of fries.

"Hell _no, _boy. I'm gon' keep pourin' it on!"

The owners of the restaurant were appalled. They had no idea what they were in for when they offered Coach cheese for his fries. Huddled by the register, the cashier stared at him in awe. The waitress reluctantly brought more condiments to the table while Ellis told them about the time Keith had nearly drowned in a vat of nacho cheese.

Halfway through the story, about the time Nick started to consider stabbing Ellis in the throat with the fork he was currently holding, Coach demanded that Ellis quiet down.

Coach needed to concentrate on his task. Cheese-pouring is serious business.

After taking in the slightly-stunned look from Ellis, he laughed and went back to pouring the eighth container of cheese onto the already cheese-covered dish, humming a Midnight Riders song as he worked.

Nick was thankful for the fact Ellis was quiet, but he was still a bit peeved by the monstrosity placed on the table before him. He brooded. Why did he have to be _here_? Why with _them_? Why all the damn _cheese?_

After the Infection, Nick had things he wanted to do. Play some pool, win some money, get the hell out of the South. But somehow, he had ended up accompanying Ellis and Coach to do god-knows-what.

Apparently, 'god-knows-what' consisted of Coach hauling Nick and Ellis off to the nearest Burger Tank.

After what seemed like hours, Coach stopped pouring cheese.

He stopped humming.

He set the container down on the table and picked up a fry.

Every person in the restaurant was watching, waiting, leaning forward with anticipation as Coach raised the fry to his lips. Coach put it in his mouth, earning a collective gasp from the people watching, and chewed.

"Hmm. These could use some ketchup."

Nick's forehead connected with the table.


	9. Together Forever

Rochelle sat atop a crate in the storeroom of the CEDA safe zone. It was the only place she could keep her mind from dwelling on the horrors she'd experienced before being rescued by the military. Not like her life after was much better. Her mind was plagued with vivid nightmares of people who were not quite people anymore, closing in, destroying her, ripping her body to pieces as she screamed for help. These dreams demolished her mind. She was numb, and nothing could bring her back.

Often, she talked to Ellis. He would sit across the room from her, on a crate used to store medicine. She told him what she was experiencing, how she felt. She told him how her nightmares were getting worse and worse. He seemed to understand. Eventually, she also started talking with Coach and Nick. The four of them would talk for hours upon hours, always in the storeroom, always about their hardships. This was their means of escape.

Ruth, a middle-aged lady with a kind heart, had taken to looking after Rochelle. Ruth would often check up on her while she was in the storeroom, bringing her food when she was too adamant to get it herself. Rochelle had been seated in the same place, staring at the wall since shortly after she had arrived a few months earlier. She was hardly self-sufficient, and insisted on sleeping in the storeroom. Ruth didn't know who she was talking to, but she assumed that it was one of her old teammates from before she was saved.

She didn't have the heart to tell her that her companions were shot upon arrival, in fear that they were carriers. Rochelle was the only one left.

Rochelle had been there for the execution. She was horrified by the fact that the three people she had fought so hard to protect were about to die before her very eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had cried for days, and then suddenly… nothing. Without them she was hollow, empty. The days merged with the nights until time meant nothing to her. She forgot about the pain and filled the void the only way she could.

And to her, it was like they were never gone.

After setting a tray of food down beside her, Ruth gave Rochelle a look of pity, then exited the storeroom.

Rochelle didn't notice, she was laughing at a story Ellis had just told her.


	10. Plans

Plans, they had plans. Once it was all over, once everything was back to normal—or at least as normal as they could get—they were going to go somewhere. He didn't know where, or how, but he knew as long as the older man was with him he'd get by. There were talks of houses, pretty little houses with pretty little lawns and pretty little furniture to go inside. The promise of a life together.

Ellis had never been so happy—even surrounded by all the death and dying, the pain, the constant struggle to stay alive and the process of saying goodbye to friends whose struggle had ceased. Gathered around a grave dug in some unknown place, always marked by a rather large stone on which the remaining survivors wrote a final message to their fallen friend, he always had to reassure him that they were better off. He had laid his companions to rest, and with each one of them he felt—although sad—that they could be happy now, that they were finally granted freedom from this life of running and fighting. Ellis said goodbye to each and with each goodbye he wondered when his time would come. He hoped it wouldn't be too soon—he had plans. _They_ had plans.

But as he laid his final companion down in the dirt, he felt their plans falling away and settling around the still body of his only remaining friend. He remembered the promises that would now go unfulfilled, and he wept. He wept for the house and he wept for the yard and the furniture and their life together. He wept for Nick.

As the sun rose, he placed the stone at the head of his grave—ever so gently, as if not to disturb the man sleeping below. He took one last, long look at the resting place of everything left for him in this world. Slowly, he closed his eyes and raised the pistol that had protected him from countless atrocities to his temple, taking a deep breath of the heavy morning air. Ellis pulled the trigger, joining his dearest friend.

The stone read, "_Nick—Don't wander too far. I'll find you. I promise_."

* * *

**A/N- **It's been so long since I've written anything other than essays. I hope this turned out well enough.


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